Hometown Holiday Reunion (4 page)

BOOK: Hometown Holiday Reunion
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“Sure, boss,” Kyle assured him with a competent nod. “You put on extra staff to help with the after-holiday crowd, remember? Everything's going fine.”

Lately, things had been going anything other than fine for him, and Cam couldn't quite believe the change was for real. “What's the word on the cooler?”

“Just a worn-out doohickey that had to be replaced. Fred didn't even charge you,” the kid added with a grin. “Said to call it a late Christmas present.”

The cavalier attitude rubbed Cam the wrong way, and he came close to ordering Kyle to pay the repairman, anyway. Then he thought again, reminding himself that he was in Oaks Crossing, not Minneapolis. Against all modern odds, Oaks Crossing was still the kind of place where neighbors helped each other out when they could. While he certainly owed Fred some kind of favor in return, Cam decided that trying to force the generous man to accept payment for his services would come across as rude. So, despite the fact that it bugged him, he opted to leave the situation as it currently stood.

“All right,” he finally said, taking a last look around the orderly kitchen. “I'll be next door a while longer. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

Baffled by the strange twists and turns his day had taken so far, Cam left the restaurant and grabbed the last of Erin's boxes from the bed of his truck. He hauled it upstairs and found her in the small living room, listening to a local country station and pulling together anything labeled Parker.

“What're you doing?” Cam asked as he set the box marked Kitchen Stuff on the breakfast bar. While he was at it, he discreetly bumped the volume knob on the small stereo so the music dropped to a more acceptable murmur. Erin gave him a knowing look but didn't say anything, so he counted that as a victory.

“Parker's hanging out with Abby at the farm today, and Mom's going to bring him by in—” she checked the oversize watch on her wrist “—an hour. I want his room to be ready when he gets here.”

The gesture got his attention, and he went closer to get a better look at the rugged piece of jewelry. Nothing fancy, it was obviously designed for a man, with bold numbers inside a cloudy crystal that had seen better days. And then it hit him: it hadn't always been hers. “Is that your dad's watch?”

“Yeah.” She tilted it toward her with a sad smile. “I used to like wearing it when I was a little girl, so he left it to me. I've worn it ever since.”

“That's nice.” While he appreciated her down-to-earth tribute, Cam couldn't help wishing that he and his father had shared the kind of relationship that made him want to do something similar. The truth was, David Stewart had left his son with nothing but icy hatred for the man who'd abandoned his wife and children because their life together hadn't turned out the way he'd planned.

Eager to embrace something more positive, Cam shouldered a box full of bedding and headed down the hallway. After a few moments' hesitation, he heard Erin sigh and start dragging another carton down behind him.

When he turned into the smaller bedroom, she called out, “No, the other one.”

“That's the master,” he argued, turning to face her. “It's got two windows and a much bigger closet. Plus, it faces Main Street with a view of the park instead of the brick wall from the building next door.”

“I want Parker to have the brighter space,” she insisted in a don't-argue-with-me tone. So, being a relatively intelligent man, Cam changed direction and hung a left.

As he carried the heavier pieces back for her, he couldn't help being awed by her selflessness. “Most women I know wouldn't have given up the walk-in closet, much less the pretty view outside, for anyone.”

Erin shrugged. “I guess I'm not like the other women you've known.”

Got that right
, he nearly said before he stopped himself. The comment had a good chance of being taken the wrong way, and he didn't want to say anything that might suggest he was more impressed with his new tenant than he should be.

The pieces of Parker's twin bed were leaning against the wall, and when Cam started assembling the frame, he noticed the parts didn't quite fit but had been rigged to work as a set.

“What's up with this?” he asked, motioning to the glued-and-screwed posts.

“When Parker came to live with me, I didn't have a bed for him. The boys were tough on theirs, but Josh took them apart and scrounged enough pieces to make one good set.”

“That's debatable,” Cam commented with a scowl. Looking around the room and then at the enormous pile of things she intended to cram in here, he added, “This kid has a ton of stuff. Where are you gonna put everything?”

“I'll figure it out,” she assured him, determination flaring in her eyes. “Contrary to what men like to believe, some women are perfectly capable of managing all kinds of things on their own.”

Translation: I counted on a man once, and he let me down.
While Cam's failed marriage helped him understand where she was coming from, the unexpected bite of her Irish temper set him back a step, and he raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Trust me, I'm not one of those guys. If I was ever stupid enough to have that attitude, Mom and Natalie would've set me straight years ago. Can I make a suggestion?”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she gave him a tentative nod.

“Let's start the new year out with a clean slate.” Offering his hand, he said, “I'm Cam Stewart. Welcome to the building.”

After a moment, she laughed and followed along. “Erin Kinley. Nice to meet you.”

“So, I hear you've got a bunch of stuff to fit into this oversize closet of a bedroom,” he went on, continuing the charade. “I can see you've got things under control up here, but would you be interested in some free help to boss around?”

“That would be great, if you're not too busy.”

“Never too busy to lend a hand to a new neighbor,” he assured her with a grin. “As a matter of fact, I've got a couple of old counter stools over at the café that'd work for your breakfast bar. Would you like me to bring 'em up here for you?”

She rewarded him with a pixie grin that told him he'd finally struck the right chord with her. “Sure. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

As he trotted down the stairs, Cam congratulated himself on devising a way for Erin and him to set their less-than-friendly past to rest for good. It might seem goofy to someone else, but he acknowledged that his solution had done more than clear the air.

It had made a very serious woman smile. To his mind, there was nothing better than that.

By the time he found those stools buried under a pile of old furniture in the back corner of the basement storeroom, he'd nearly given up. They were dusty and laced with cobwebs, but after a quick hosing and drying, the sturdy chairs were ready to go. Just in time, too, because as he was delivering them to Erin, he spotted Maggie Kinley's familiar old SUV turning onto Main Street. He hurried upstairs, set the stools in place and was on his way out when he heard, “Where are you going?”

Turning, he found Erin standing outside Parker's room holding a pillow in one hand and some kind of outdoorsy pillowcase in the other. “I figured this is a family thing.”

“You've been helping me all day long,” she argued with a smile. “I think you deserve to see Parker's face when he finds out what we've been up to in here.”

Something about the way she said “we” touched a part of him that he didn't often bother with. It was the shadowy, distant corner of his heart that still believed—however faintly—that his own company wasn't really enough for him, no matter how many times he insisted it was. Since there wasn't time for him to gracefully leave, he decided to let that part of him answer, just this once. “I'd like that, too. Thanks for thinking of it.”

She gave him the kind of smile he'd never seen all those years he'd been tormenting her. Shy and sweet, it had a warm quality to it that made him smile back.

Footsteps on the stairs broke that brief, unexpected connection, and Cam retreated down the hallway with a vague comment about checking the drains in the bathroom. When it occurred to him that he meant to leave so Erin would have the spotlight, he was puzzled. It wasn't like him to give ground to anyone, and why he'd suddenly do it now was beyond him.

Maybe there was still a hint of Christmas spirit in the air, he mused before grinning at his own foolishness. Then again, it was as good an explanation as any.

* * *

“You mean, we're going to live here?” Parker asked, blue eyes shining with an emotion Erin couldn't quite identify. It could sometimes be hard to tell what he was feeling, since he seemed reluctant to get excited about things. Even at Christmas, he'd held back from tearing open his gifts the way Abby had, as if he was scared to let anyone know how he felt about his presents.

Her mother had come and gone, so it was up to Erin to put him at ease. “You remember we talked last month about moving into town when the judge retired, right?”

He nodded, and Erin forged ahead with a chipper attitude that was as much for her benefit as his. She recognized that she was taking a huge risk, starting a new business in a less-than-robust economy. If Pampered Paws failed, she didn't have a Plan B, and that kind of situation had always made her nervous. Now it was even more worrisome, because she had someone else relying on her. “Well, living over the pet store will make it easier for me to get it up and running quickly. Plus, you'll be closer to the town park where you and Abby like to play.”

“Can I still go out to the farm?”

The anxiety in his soft voice just about broke her heart, and she realized that he'd assumed that in gaining one thing, he'd have to give up another that meant a lot to him. Countless times in the several months she'd been his foster mom, she'd silently cursed the people responsible for making this sweet, intelligent boy so fearful of losing what he loved.

Forcing a bright smile, she ruffled his hair. “Anytime you want. The horses and all the critters at the rescue center would miss you if you didn't go see them. Not to mention, Grammy would forget how to make oatmeal cookies if you weren't around to help her.”

“No, she wouldn't,” he replied with a shy smile. “Grammy knows how to make everything.”

That tiny burst of confidence in her mother made Erin want to cheer. More than anything, Parker needed to have adults in his life that he could trust without question. That Mom had earned her way into his heart through baking didn't surprise Erin in the least. Between her own children and a small army of local kids, Mom had been doing it for as long as Erin could remember.

“Yeah, I guess you're right.” She heard footsteps coming out of the bathroom, and in the hallway she saw Cam holding a faucet handle that had apparently broken loose. At his questioning look, she smiled and waved him in. “Parker, this is an old friend of the family, Cam Stewart. He was at Drew and Bekah's wedding, but he left before I could introduce you to him. He owns the Oaks Café.”

“Actually, my mom does,” Cam corrected her, addressing his comment to Parker as he offered his free hand. “It's good to meet you, Parker.”

“Nice to meet you, too, sir,” the boy responded quietly, avoiding eye contact while they shook hands. He was that way when he encountered anyone outside the family, and Erin reminded herself that while it was concerning, she had to be patient with him.

Cam, however, seemed to have other ideas. Setting the fixture on an unopened box, he hunkered down so he was on a level with the shy boy. An awkward silence settled over them, and Erin opened her mouth to fill the void. Catching her eye, Cam stalled her with a slight shake of his head.

Focusing back on Parker, she noticed that he seemed to be waiting for something. Erin couldn't begin to grasp what was going on, but instinct told her that it was important, so she kept quiet and watched the two of them.

After what felt like forever, Parker lifted his chin and gazed thoughtfully at Cam, assessing this new adult to determine whether or not he could be trusted. For his part, Cam didn't say a word, just kept staring back as if he intended to do it the rest of the day if that's what it took for Parker to be comfortable around him. And then, just when she was beginning to think it was all pointless, the most amazing thing happened.

“Is that your old truck out front?” Parker asked.

“Yeah, it is. It's a fifty-six Ford pickup my granddad and I restored when I was in high school.”

“It's real nice. You did a good job.”

Cam grinned at him. “Thanks.”

“Does it have three gears or four?”

Standing, Cam fished his keys out of his jeans pocket and dangled them in front of Parker. “Why don't you come check it out for yourself?”

The kid who never spoke more than a sentence or two to a new acquaintance flashed a questioning look at Erin. “Can I?”

A surge of joy threatened to pop out of her mouth, and she swallowed to keep it in check. “Sure. You boys have fun.”

Clearly delighted, Parker all but ran from the apartment and started pounding down the stairs before Cam even stood up.

Because she could no longer contain her excitement, she beamed up at him. “I'm not sure what you did, but thank you.”

“I didn't do anything, but you're welcome.”

“Modesty from Cam Stewart?” she teased with a smirk. “That's a first.”

That got her a decidedly sour look. “Don't give me a hard time. I'm trying to be agreeable.”

“Amazing. I didn't think you had it in you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he grumbled on his way out. “Don't rub it in.”

Laughing, she closed the door behind him and sneaked over to the front window, standing out of sight to get a view of the male-bonding scene unfolding on the curb outside. Cam motioned to Parker, then said something that prompted the boy to open the driver's door and climb into the cab of the vintage blue pickup. He grasped the steering wheel like a race car driver, sawing the wheel back and forth while a laughing Cam got in beside him. Boys and their toys, she thought with a smile. You had to love it.

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